


Alibi

by Alliemackenzie28, MedicBaymax



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Kristen Beck, Originally an RP, Protective!Steve, Whump, binders suck, broken ribs, broken wrist, difficulty breathing, like neck needles, low-key RPF, some questionable medicine, trans!Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/pseuds/Alliemackenzie28, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicBaymax/pseuds/MedicBaymax
Summary: Danny has a wife and child, he watches football and drinks beer. No one on the Island has ever in a million years questioned his gender... until a kidnapper's bullet blows his most heavily guarded secrets right out of the water. Originally a whumpy RP between the authors.





	Alibi

"McGarrett," Steve answered, juggling two cups of coffee and his phone as he took the steps up to their offices two at a time. It was Duke Lukela, asking if the 5-0 could take over a case from HPD. Steve listened and accepted as he handed Danny the second coffee without looking at him. "Got a case, people!"

Danny, Chin, and Kono gathered around the table in the main room and Steve transferred the info Duke had sent him onto the big screen. 

"Looks like a kidnapping ring. There have been eight kidnappings over the past three years that fit the same M.O., but the latest was the daughter of one of our senators. Every victim has been taken from their home during the day on a weekday. No neighbors have seen anything. Seven vics have been returned alive after ransom was paid. The one case where the vic is still missing is two years old and looks exactly the same as all the others- Angela Ranzini was taken during the day, ransom texts within 48 hours, family paid the ransom. The other times, the vic was dropped off at the promised location within an hour of payment; this time they just quit communicating. Chin, Kono, I want interviews with all seven victims plus families. Danny, we're gonna track down the one lead we have. HPD was able to triangulate the texts from Angela Ranzini's case to a block of projects at 1506 Piikoi St. Let's go."

"We have any info on the perps?" Danny asked, listening as he sipped his coffee. It was still early enough that the rapidfire information was jarring. That was, of course, how most information was that came through the H50 office. But it was early and the coffee was still making its sluggish way to his veins. 

"Not much," said Steve. "The ransom was paid in cash every time, nonconsecutive bills. They took people whose families they knew would have access to that kind of cash on short notice, and who wouldn't go to the police- big time drug dealers, a pimp, a couple of corrupt public officials. I'm assuming this senator falls into that last category."

"Eh, we hope." Danny said, shaking his head. "You never can tell these days." 

Not a half hour later, they arrived at the address Steve had mentioned. Two long buildings, simple but well maintained for government-sponsored apartments. "Don't suppose HPD were able to triangulate a specific room from those texts, huh?" He said, not particularly looking forward to a door-to-door search of people who had likely had negative interactions with law enforcement in the past. 

 

"They think it's building B, but we're gonna have to go door to door." Steve unfolded himself from the low seat of the Camaro and stood looking at the building, squinting into the sun. He set his hand on his gun, mirroring a position his partner often took (great, he really was becoming a cop). "Let's do the first floor first so we can catch them if they try to come down. I'll start at the far end, you start over here, and we'll meet in the middle."

"Exactly how I love to spend a morning." 

Danny was on his fifth door. So far, he'd gotten no answer from two of them, and the three others might as well have been given the lack of information they'd provided. Danny had a feeling they genuinely didn't know much either. The only fear he'd picked up on was from a lady with two toddlers running around the cramped living room. He sighed, moving onto the next apartment. 

Then he stopped, falling back a second. He'd caught a glimpse of multiple men with what seemed to be sophisticated A/V equipment stacked on a table through a crack in the front blinds. He stood quietly out of eyeshot until Steve finished one of his doors, then caught his attention and gestured to the apartment. 

Steve sighed as he stepped back from the fourth door that had been shut in his face. He must have his aneurism face on today, he thought absently. Glancing over to check on his partner, he saw that Danny was giving him a look. Taking care not to move too quickly, Steve made his way over to the door Danny had indicated and stood to one side, back against the wall, gun against his chest, and nodded. Ready when you are.

Danny nodded, then knocked on the door with feeling, keeping an eye on the group inside. "Five-O, open up!" He shouted. 

Instantly, the door was flung open. Steve caught a glimpse of the barrel of a gun, and his brain told him there were six people in the dark room, although he couldn't say he really saw them. In the next second, the barrel came up and the sharp bang of a gunshot rang through the small apartment, and then Steve was rushing towards the guy who'd pulled the trigger. He shot the guy in the neck, registered a spurt of bright blood, and checked that one off as a non-threat. Moving further into the room, he expected Danny to be behind him, but as he turned to clear behind the door before taking on the other five, he was suddenly aware that Danny was still out on the sidewalk. Steve turned his head to check on him. 

"Da-" was all he got out before he felt a sharp sting in the side of his neck. He turned, shot wildly in the direction of the other people, and then his knees buckled and everything went dark.

The kidnapper's first shot hit Danny's mid chest off-center. He wasn't sure if the impact had caught him off-balance or if the sudden pain that exploded across his right breast had dropped him, but either way, he found himself sprawled, moaning, on the concrete sidewalk.

By the time he looked up, there was a gun in his face and Steve was on the floor inside. Oh what a difference a few seconds made, he chastised himself as his body flooded with contained dread. "Steve!" He said instinctually. He couldn't tell if Steve had been shot too, but he was lying eerily still with his eyes closed. As Danny fought back his own pain and nausea, he could see Steve's chest rising slowly, and noted there was no pool of blood spreading around him. 

"Get in." The man with the gun- his own gun was far out of reach now- gestured with his piece to the same spot on the floor as Steve. He groaned as he tried to follow the man's direction. "Move!" 

He grimaced, standing slowly, his arm plastered against his injured side. He glared, then made his way painfully over to Steve's unconscious form. 

"Steve?" He said again urgently, shaking him. "What'd you do to him?!" He demanded of the gunman. He wasn't in a position to fight, and he knew it, but he wanted to hurt this man. A few yards away, on a linoleum kitchen floor, someone that Steve had clearly taken down lay in a pool of blood. Steve was breathing, he had a pulse, but he wasn't responding. The gunman didn't seem concerned, just chuckled slowly at the demand. He threw two sets of zipties to Danny. 

"Him first, then you. Tight as you can. Behind the back. Now." Again he flicked the gun in Danny's direction. Pausing only a second or two to catch his own breath, Danny grudgingly rolled Steve onto his side, hands behind his back. Danny was breathing shallowly now, trying to preserve some level of comfort as he could feel sweat beading on his face. There appeared to be no lights or air conditioning running in the apartment. Once the man had closed the door a yellowy dusk fell over the room. His binder pressed in on what felt like a broken rib with every breath.

Steve woke to shouting.

"The fuck am I 'sposed to do about it?"

"I don't know, how about not shooting a cop? You ever think about jus' answering their questions? Huh?"

"Man, I dunno, the one guy had his gun right in my face and I just freaked, ok? You're the one that drugged him!"

Steve groaned involuntarily and reached up to rub at his eyes, which were crusted shut. Except... his arm wouldn't move. His wrists were held together behind his back with a zip tie, for which he thanked his lucky stars. He remembered where he'd been- the project housing on Piikoi- knocking on doors, and Danny had called him over... "Danny?" he slurred. He picked his head up out of a puddle of drool and looked around the darkened room. The same men from before- minus the one Steve had killed- stood around them, arguing about what to do with the two cops they'd just kidnapped. "Wha'djou do w'Danno?" Steve glared up at the big Hawaiian who walked over to him. As he glared, he fiddled with his wrists, trying to get the right angle to break the plastic, but he felt slow and uncoordinated. They'd drugged him…

Danny felt relief wash over him as Steve began to stir. "Right here, Steve." He said. "Though, you might as well go back to sleep, their constant bickering's about ready to kill me." He would have chuckled at his own joke, but a grating sensation he'd felt even talking discouraged that. He was leaning up against the wall just behind Steve as the Hawaiian came over. 

Steve finally managed to get himself sitting upright, although he definitely wasn't ready to be on his knees or feet. Danny's voice reassured him, and he turned to look at his partner. The other man was also upright, which was good, but Steve knew his friend, and something was wrong. He couldn't tell exactly what yet, but he decided to direct their kidnappers' attention to himself for the time being. "Hey asshole! Your buddy's right, kidnapping a couple of cops was pretty stupid."

"I didn't kidnap you! He's the one that shot you!"

Steve raised his eyebrows. "I'm sitting here tied up, and you're saying you didn't kidnap me? How do you come to that conclusion?"

"I didn't tie you up, and I didn't shoot shorty over there, that's how!"

Memory flooded back- they'd shot Danny! Steve whipped his head around, causing a wave of dizziness. "Danno? Fuck, you ok? Where are you hit?" He turned back to the guy in front of him. "He'd better be ok, cause if he's not, I'm gonna make sure you get locked up for life. And you're not gonna stay on the island. No, you're gonna go somewhere they don't know you, where you're nobody, and you're gonna have cellmates who'll make you wish you'd let us go. Do you hear me?"

Danny made his voice as calm as possible. There was real concern in Steve's voice and it pained him to hear it, but Steve yelling at their captors wasn't going to help the situation besides getting one of them punched or drugged again. 

"I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine. You've been out cold for a half hour and you're this worried about me? Take it easy for a second, huh?" He turned his attention to their captors. "And you guys- No one needs to accuse anyone of anything unless its in a court of law, hear me?" God, he needed to take off this binder. Anyway, they'd missed a check-in. With good luck Chin and Kono would be on their way within the hour. He just had to keep everything in copacetic until the cavalry got here. 

Half an hour. That was good. That meant the rest of their team would be coming to look for them... fairly soon. Math was still beyond Steve's mental capacity at the moment. Danny's voice sounded strained, but he was clearly not in terrible shape, so Steve did as he said and laid aside his worry for the moment. 

"Alright, alright. Our team is going to notice that we're missing and come looking for us. If one of you guys helps us out, we'll see if you can get a lighter sentence." He looked each of the five men in the eye, trying to suss out which one was the weak link. After another few minutes of arguing, the men all went in the other room to figure out what to do. Immediately, Steve pulled the zip tie around his wrists as tight as it would go and gave it a sharp tug, snapping the head off and freeing his hands. He turned to his partner. 

"Where are you hit?" But he didn't need to ask; Steve could see the butt of the bullet embedded in Danny's tac vest. That couldn't be helping his breathing. Working quickly, he unbuttoned Danny's shirt and began pulling off the velcro straps of the vest.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Danny said, his whisper for the first time laced with just a hint of panic as he all but pushed Steve's hands away from his shirtfront. He needed to get out of the vest, and he needed to get the binder the hell off his body before breathing became too painful or his boob exploded. He could feel it swelling with the bullet's impact, the tightness of the binder making it throb horribly. 

But not in front of Steve. Not Steve's hands removing the vest and the stiff mesh tank top beneath that held a pair of breasts flat against his chest. There had been a lot of times he'd thought about telling Steve about his... condition. But even after years, he had no gauge on how the man would react. 

And Danny had seen all the reactions. The ones of tentative acceptance, the ones of ones of guarded curiosity, ones of pity, ones of scorn and outright hatred and even violence. There was a reason people gathered to say the names of the hundreds murdered each year for their transgender status, right? Perhaps the worst though, and, if he was honest, the one he was most afraid of from Steve, was the one of professional courtesy followed by a living nightmare as people in the workplace slowly turned away from him. No outright violence- no one could get away with that anymore. But there was a coldness that descended when everyone slowly learns that about you behind your back and without your permission. 

He may not have loved Hawaii initially, but it was growing on him. Steve was his best friend. He didn't want to risk that if he only had to endure another hour of pain and some awkward questions to avoid it. 

"Danny, what-?" Steve frowned down at his partner, who was clearly in pain. "I need to look at your chest, ok? This thing's gonna make it a lot harder to breathe if that bullet broke a rib." On the table there was half a case of water bottles, and he grabbed two, opening one for Danny and holding it out for him. Steve drank the other one in a single breath. Danny took the bottle but didn't drink from it. He felt dizzy and a little sleepy all of a sudden. He desperately needed to take a deep breath, but knew he couldn't keep the pain of something like that off his face with Steve looking straight at him. He blinked, trying to clear pulsating dark spots from his vision. Surely he couldn't be that bad off, though....

He put the bottle down and pushed himself up a little more against the wall. He could get in a little more air now without wanting to throw up, but the sleepiness hadn't gone away. "Steve... thsss is weird..." He said. A dark halo was sparkling on the edges of his vision and he was no longer hearing things correctly.

Oh shit. He couldn't pass out. If he hit the floor Steve would have to take his vest off. He fought against it, even running the risk of Steve seeing the pain on his face to take as deep a breath as he could. He felt better for a fleeting second, but then, weirdly, he felt himself slide sideways down the wall. 

And suddenly, though he was still at least somewhat conscious and knew Steve would soon be finding something out about him he had gone to such lengths to hide, a strange, floaty feeling came over him and he didn't care as his eyes drifted shut. 

The bottle Danny put down fell over immediately, but Steve barely noticed, because Danny mumbled something that included Steve's name, and then began to tip over too. 

"Buddy, stay with me.” He could tell Danny was trying, but it seemed like he wasn't able to get enough air in. He had to get that vest off of him; using one arm to hold him up under his armpit, Steve used his free hand to continue unstrapping the vest. Danny was looking at him, but through him, with a sort of blank look on his face, and then he went limp in Steve's arms. Shit. Steve lowered him gently to the ground and threw caution and quiet to the wind, ripping off velcro and tearing through the last of the buttons on Danny's shirt. Under his usual button down, Danny had on some kind of white sleeveless undershirt. "Spandex dude? Really?" Steve tried to use his teeth to tear through at the bottom hem, but the material was too thick. Fortunately, their kidnappers hadn't been smart enough to take Steve's boots, so he still had a small blade on him. He used it to cut through the bottom of the undershirt, but then the material was too thick to tear by hand. What the hell was this thing? No wonder Danny couldn't breathe! Steve could see the edges of a bruise spreading out from under the right shoulder. Using his finger to protect Danny's skin from the point of the knife, Steve sliced up the left side of the undershirt and through both shoulder straps. The shirt snapped off of Danny like it had been really tight. Steve shoved it to the side to see the bruise, and... his brain did a double take, because there on the chest of his partner- his male partner, who had a wife and a daughter and who used the mens room right next to him and drank beer and watched football and ran down criminals- there were breasts. 

They were clearly, unmistakably breasts. Steve looked at them like he'd never looked at breasts before- usually there was at least some amount of aesthetic appreciation, but all he felt now was bewilderment. What the hell were boobs doing attached to Danny's chest? Apparently the breasts didn't bother the part of Steve's brain that had been trained by the SEALs to unemotionally assess a situation and figure out what to do about it, because that bit immediately presented him with an image of a fellow SEAL, beside him behind a pile of rubble in a little town in Afghanistan. The SEAL was bleeding from a graze to the leg. Steve's fellow soldier popped out from behind the rubble and shouted, "Come out, motherfuckers!" before darting back to safety. Steve's eyes went wide. "Beck, are you fucking nuts? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

Ch- Kristin Beck was one of the best SEALs Steve had ever known. Beck had helped train him, having been a SEAL for almost ten years by the time Steve entered BUDs, and they'd fought together in some pretty hairy situations. When Beck came out as transgender, Steve had been surprised at first, but really, knowing Beck, it made perfect sense for her to be, well, herself. She'd always been a little reckless with her own life on the battlefield, but he'd found out later that she'd actually been trying to die a hero. After reading a couple articles, he'd shot her an email of support in which he came out as bisexual for the first time ever, and then done about three hours of curious googling. The googling session had been enough for him to recognize Danny's "undershirt" as a binder. The first coherent thought Steve had after those few seconds of intense processing was, shit, these guys are gonna take this and run with it. And he'd cut up Danny's binder. Quickly, he pressed on Danny's sides and sternum, carefully avoiding the breasts. Just under his right collarbone, he found an area that made a grinding sensation when he palpated it: badly broken ribs, high up enough to be really dangerous. Taking care to move Danny as little as possible, he did up what buttons he could on his shirt and began loosely restrapping the tac vest, which would both support Danny's ribs and hide anything he didn't want to be seen.

He didn't think he'd been out for that long, but when he did finally come to, the tight throbbing on his chest had loosened.

Oh shit. The adrenaline that shot through him at the idea that someone had to have seen something overcame the groggy CO2 headache. HIs eyes shot open. "Steve, it's not..." But as he tried to sit up he felt the tac vest slide sideways against the injury and his hands scrabbled to right it under his shirt. He was breathing again, and less painfully. But the sense of dread of what that meant weighed on him. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Even worst case scenario Steve could be trusted to help him to safety, but did the captors know? He looked around, his breathing finally slowing down as he saw their shadows still in the other room. 

Danny was clearly in pain when he woke up. Everything in Steve was screaming at him to protect Danny, get him out of here, because he was hurt and couldn't defend himself, and breathing was really fucking important. "Stay down. We have to get you to a hospital, Danno," Steve whispered. He sat up and tested his balance. Not bad. Silently, Steve untied his boots and slipped them off, leaving them on the floor next to Danny. Steve gave him a significant look. "Stay." Knife in hand, he slunk silently towards the room where the five men stood around smoking and arguing. 

Danny did as Steve said, but couldn't tolerate what Steve looked about to do. "What the hell Steve? if I'm staying down so are you!!" He whispered aggressively. "Do not take on five armed...." He groaned. "Or you could totally ignore me, dumbass." He mumbled to himself. He undid a couple of the buttons of his shirt and slipped a hand under the remains of his binder. Steve had really done a number on it. Once he figured out how his partner had reacted to finding his breasts, he might joke about owing him one (did he know how much those cost??). His breast felt hot and swollen and painful. He wouldn't be able to bind for a week, so even if Steve didn't tell them, his other coworkers weren't far behind in learning his secret. Satisfied, he re-did the velcro securements on the vest and buttoned back up, ready for whatever Steve's escape ridiculous plan was. 

Steve stepped on a creaky board. Fuck! All five of the kidnappers turned towards him at once, and Steve's brain again went on autopilot. The first guy didn't have a chance. Steve's knife slid cleanly in and out of his neck, and before he knew what was happening he was on the floor, bleeding out through his clasped fingers. The second guy, a skinny, wiry man with a cigarette hanging from his lips, went to punch Steve in the face but telegraphed the move so badly that Steve was able to duck up under his arm and slice the inside of his elbow. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking his sleeve instantly, and he howled in pain. Steve was now all the way inside the kitchen, leaving an open space between him and the door to the living room, where Danny still sat on the floor, injured and unarmed. 

"Danny!" was all Steve had time to shout before cigarette guy was on him again, stabbing at his armored back with a kitchen knife. 

Steve had managed to get three of the five either so injured they weren't a threat, or so engaged in trying to fight Steve off they weren't coming after him. But that still left two, and they knew how to get to get Steve's mind off grappling with their buddy. They were in the front room before Danny had a chance to really prepare. He lay still, waiting until they were practically on top of him before punching upward. His chest seared and he let out a verbal representation of that sudden pain. Fortunately, the guy he'd punched in the nuts screamed loud enough to drown it out.

Unfortunately, it didn't distract his friend quite as much. Hampered by the loose vest and injury, Danny wasn't quick enough to avoid the kidnapper grabbing him by his shirt and slamming him against the wall. Danny saw stars as the rib fragments grated against each other and he sagged, putting a lot of his weight on the kidnapper. But instead of taking the beating he was expecting, he noted the kidnapper looked puzzled and his eyes dropped to Danny's chest. 

Steve was in a stalemated hand-to-hand fight with the biggest of the five, the one who'd said he wasn't a kidnapper. The guy wasn't well trained, but he was huge and strong, and seemed impervious to pain. He'd knocked Steve's knife out of his hand and backed him into a corner after hitting him hard in the side of the head. On defense for a moment to regain his bearings, Steve heard Danny cry out in pain, though it was covered by a louder yell. Steve feinted up and then dropped to the ground and chopped upwards into the man's now unprotected groin before slipping between his legs. He snatched his knife off the floor, jumped onto the man's back, and slit his throat without a pause. In the other room, there was a crash and a groan from Danny, weaker this time, followed by silence. Steve took three big steps, and he was looking at Danny, who was hanging in the grasp of one of the two remaining kidnappers, his shirt ripped nearly off and his vest, loosely strapped, sitting several inches away from his chest. The guy holding him up was staring down into the gap left by the tac vest.

Hampered by the loose vest and injury, Danny wasn't quick enough to avoid the kidnapper grabbing him by his shirt and slamming him against the wall. Danny saw stars as the rib fragments grated against each other and he sagged, putting a lot of his weight on the kidnapper.

Weakly, Danny looked up to see the kidnapper's face change from confusion to morbid understanding. "Hey Joe, get up, somethin' you gotta see right here." Joe, only partially recovered from the assault on his nuts, got onto his knees. Danny noted with satisfaction that the man's eyes were still watering. "Dude's got boobs, here, right?" The kidnapper pushed Danny to the floor, his hand immediately pressing hard into Danny's injured chest to keep him there. Danny gasped as his vision again began to fade. He struggled, taking a loose swing at his assailant, who dodged it. 

For the trouble, Danny got a fist in his own face and, recovering, felt the kidnapper rip his shirt open and throw the front of his vest open. "Ladyboi here thinks she's some kind of hotshot cop."

Seeing those men hurting Danny made Steve nearly blind with rage. He grabbed the back of Joe’s shirt and the waistband of his pants while he was still bent over and hauled him out the door, tossing him head first onto the pavement. The thug didn’t get up. Danny was still hanging limply in the tight grip of the last kidnapper as Steve walked over to him. At the last second, the guy dropped Danny and came towards Steve, both hands extended. He caught Steve off guard with a hard shove to his chest, sending him toppling backwards into the coffee table. Both the table and Steve’s left wrist cracked under the impact. Steve stayed on his back, which was actually a very strong defensive position, and waited for his attacker to come at him again. But the guy didn’t move. Steve followed his shocked stare to the door, where Chin stood with his shotgun trained on him. Steve let his head drop back to the floor and he took a second to just breathe. Fuck, his arm hurt. He kept it cradled against his chest as he sat up and walked on his knees towards his partner. “Danny?”

Danny gulped air and rolled over painfully, curling around his chest. "I'm fine, I'm... Steve?" He said. "Steve, you're hurt..." He said, blinking. 

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, Danno, I broke my arm. I’m ok.” He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Stay still, you’ve got broken ribs. We- we’ll talk about-“ he waved towards Danny’s chest, “-all that later, ok? Right now you have to go to the hospital.” He tugged one side of Danny’s torn shirt up to give him better coverage as Chin walked over to them, leaving the remaining thug in Kono’s capable (and pissed off) hands. 

We'll talk about it later . That was a very loaded statement. Or maybe not. Maybe it was fine. He laid on the floor until Chin and Kono finished up arresting the kidnappers. "Medics are on their way, they'll be here in a few minutes." Danny heard Chin say, kneeling down next to the two of them. It took a second for his brain to compute that, but he was very, very against that idea. 

"I'm not going to a hospital." Danny asserted, trying to sit up. "Just let me go home, I'm fine..."

Steve held Danny down easily with one hand on his shoulder (her shoulder? Now he wasn’t sure. He just hoped Danny would be willing to share with him.). “The hospital is the only place you’re going, and you’re going in an ambulance. I have to go too, see?” Steve held up his arm, stable but painful, and now obviously bruised. He waited there on the floor with Danny until the ambulance showed up, argued with the EMTs who wanted to lift his partner onto their stretcher (ambulate before carry, right?), and planted himself on Danny’s right side in the ambulance, ready to defend him again. He wasn’t yet totally sure how he felt about Danny’s... situation, but he was damn sure that everyone else should accept it without question. Politely.

The ride to the hospital was one of the most awkward Danny had ever experienced. Not that he'd never sought medical attention before, but the last time he'd actually been admitted had been under his previous name. It had been uncomfortable but the logistics had been easy at least. Now, it would be complicated. 

"Ms. Williams?" The nurse walked in to the curtained-off section of ED, pulling the curtain across the space between Danny's cot and Steve's. She looked up from her clip board and her face looked surprised. "Uh, sorry, wrong bed." She said quickly, a hint of embarrassment showing on her face. 

"Nah, you got the right bed. But its Mr. Williams." He corrected, letting a hint of a longsuffering grimace show through. She looked confused, low-key checking the bedspace number above Danny's head and her clipboard. 

"Would you mind telling me your date of birth?" She asked. Danny did. She looked unconvinced. 

"Danielle Williams?" She said, as though challenging it. Danny cringed a little inwardly.  
"Danny." 

"Okay... I'm Courtney, I'll be your nurse..." She said, writing "DANI" on the board while keeping a concerned eye on him. Him, and the uncomfortably conspicuous bumps under his gown. 

The ED was crowded enough that the doctor was happy to slap Steve in a splint and a sling and discharge him with instructions to see an ortho. After leaning on the counter at the nurse's station, he finally caught someone's eye and asked where Danny was. Of course, she wouldn't tell him, so he had to stand there till he saw a nurse he knew. "Jo, my partner Danny is in one of these rooms, and they won't tell me where he is," he pleaded.

"Hold on, I'll go ask his nurse if he can have anybody in there," she said with a kind smile. More waiting followed, but finally a woman walked up to him. 

"Steve McGarrett? I'm... your, um, partner's nurse. She says you can go in. Room 5." 

There was something weird about the her demeanor, but Steve couldn't put his finger on it. And she'd said "she," which sat about as well with him as Danny's breasts. He hated himself for thinking it, because maybe Danny was fine with having boobs, but it just struck him as weird. He pulled aside the curtain to room 5 very, very slowly. 

 

"Danny?"

"Hey" Danny said. "See they got you fixed up nice and quick. Looks like I might be sticking around for a while." His words were almost bitter, with a little worry now that he was going to have to explain a lot of things. He totally got the discomfort fictional superheroes tended to have when admitting their extracurriculars to their friends.

Steve smiled tentatively and adjusted his sling where it pulled across the back of his neck. "Seems like you're breathing better though." He wasn't sure if he should stay or leave, especially since Danny would probably have to be shirtless for the exam. 

Glancing around the room awkwardly, he spotted "Dani" on the white board. "Do you want me to change that? Or is it ok like it is?"

"Change it. Please. I beg of you." Danny said, trying to laugh it off as a stupid mistake. "And before you ask, I'm a guy. He/him. I just lost the gender identity lottery's all. Got a body that decided to sprout boobs." 

Steve laughed with Danny and changed the name to "Det. Danny Williams," but then decided that was too much and erased the title and the last name. He pulled the chair down towards the foot of the bed so Danny wouldn't have to twist around to see him, and sat. "There was this guy I knew. SEAL. Great soldier, trust him with my life. He, um... well she, I guess, she came out as being transgender a few years ago. Wrote a book and everything. I don't know if that's... anything close to what's going on with you, but if it is, you should know I emailed her the same day I found out and told her I'd still have her back, bar fight, firefight, fuckin' dress shopping, whatever. Cause, it didn't matter to me what she looked like or wore. I do know that I know Beck, and Beck is a great American, and I know it's not about what she's wearing, it's about... like, she was always a girl, or something? Ok look, I have no idea what it's about, but what I'm trying to say here is that I've got your back too. I know Danny Williams, and... that's it." Steve put his head in his hands, not daring to look at Danny. He just hoped he hadn't ruined anything.

Danny wasn't sure whether to go with "that's kinda mushy for you, Steve, but i'll take it" or "Kristin Beck, huh? No kidding." but decided on, finally and maybe a little lamely, "Thanks." Because he wasn't always sure about that. But if Steve was on his side, it might make sense to live a little more openly around the station. God knew he was holding back fifty-plus tasteful queer jokes a week, and that in itself was a comedic travesty. "I'm gonna take you up on that bar fight backup just as soon as I get out of here." 

After more radiation than he thought he would need in a lifetime, they gave him the option of staying overnight in observation, which he declined. He could breathe as long as he wasn't wearing a binder, and even he wasn't that stupid, even if the dysphoria was about to be a bitch. 

Finally, Danny was ready to leave. Steve drove them both to the pharmacy in the Camaro, and picked up what looked like enough pain meds to take down an elephant. When he got back in the car, he took in a deep breath. "Well that sucked. Wanna come over for beers and pass out on the couch? I'm making the executive decision to give us both the next two days off." The next two days were Thursday and Friday, so that meant four solid days away from the office.

Danny understood this was a chance for Steve to keep tabs on him, but he really didn't care. The next few days were probably going to suck enough with his severely bruised boob and broken ribs, but for now he was stable enough to lay on Steve's couch with his head propped up and watch whatever was on TV. "Well, Steve, that sounds like a terrible idea that would give anyone with even the smallest medical talents an aneurysm, so, naturally, I'm all for it."


End file.
